Hope Olivia: Our Little Light in the Darkness

I really wanted this to be a pregnancy announcement and it is, in a way. But it is not the one I dreamt about for so long. This is the story of a baby I will never know earth side. This is for Hope Olivia, our little light in the darkness. On July 1st I woke up and realized I was late. Ever since my surgery to correct PCOS I had been pretty regular. This was something new. Isn't it funny how things happen just the way they say they will? I pulled out the tiny pink test strips and prayed for the umpteenth time in my marriage, watching my iPhone timer tick toward 5 minutes. I walked away, I walked back, sat, stood, got changed for church. 5 minutes.And then, there in front of my eyes the tiniest, faintest second line. I could not believe it. I cried the whole way to Mass, blasting King of My Heart by Bethel, repeating the words that Steffany sings, "You are good. You're good. Oh, You're good." And I believed it. The Lord had kept His promises to me.The readings that day included those powerful words of Jesus, "Talitha Koum." Little girl, I say to you, arise. I felt so alive, like the Lord was reaching out his hand just for me.After Mass I took 4 more tests, each one just slightly darker than the one from the morning. I texted Stephen the news excitedly. When we were in the thick of infertility I had all of these cute plans to reveal it, to tell our parents, to film it for the world to see; in that moment it was all I could do to keep from yelling to strangers on the street.I AM PREGNANT. Did you know?!??!I nervously emailed my doctor, because I wasn't on any medication and worried about my progesterone levels. His office called Monday morning to send me for a blood test to confirm. I began supplementing with progesterone. That night Steve & I went to Target to walk the baby aisles that we previously avoided at all costs. We let ourselves dream, marveling at the impossibly tiny outfits and the price of strollers. On July 4th we walked to the fireworks and talked about bringing our baby next year. We snapped this blurry photo that I now hold so dear.We told our parents, and our siblings, and a few close friends. I told my youth group leaders, because we were about to start Vacation Bible School, and I had no idea if I'd be sick or tired or irritable or all of the above. My follow-up blood work came back great, a jump in HCG and progesterone. Freedom to rejoice, permission to make all the plans.And yet, I was covered in fear. I knew pregnancy was half the battle, and I knew PCOS  carried a higher risk of miscarriage, and so I worried. Excited though I was, there was always a tiny little voice within me, doubting.The spotting began in the middle of my week and I nervously called my doctor, asking if I was miscarrying. They told me spotting was normal, to call them if I began to bleed heavily like a cycle. This put me at ease, and I continued taking my medicine and operating as normal. I prayed and prayed and prayed.And then that weekend, just past the six week mark, I began to bleed. I knew what was happening without any confirmation: we would never hold this baby.There is no way to explain how I felt, how I am still feeling. These days and weeks following have been incredibly difficult. I am hoping that typing this out will help with the healing. Most days are normal, but it still strikes me unexpectedly, and I let the grief come and go in waves until the next time.Stephen and I are devastated that the story of our parenthood begins this way. We were hoping that infertility would be our heaviest cross, but one great suffering does not cancel another. Slowly I am learning that life is perpetually full of suffering, but it is not without redemption, and, eventually, it opens the doors to joy unimaginable. Do you want to know two of my very favorite bible verses? I have loved them for so long, and now they mean so much more:

Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. // James 1:2-4Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us.// Romans 5:3-5

We don't have anything physical by which to remember our baby, our first ultrasound would've been this week, so I am sharing the only photos of us I have. Anything resembling a bump is really just my LOVELY bloated stomach, but I was trying to take as many photos as I could to document. There is another little person in each of the pictures:Although we don't know the sex of the baby, Steve and I always thought we would have a girl first. We named her Hope Olivia, for she has been both a symbol of this virtue, and an olive branch of peace and victory on our journey of infertility.Her due date was early March, so I purchased this raw aquamarine necklace to carry her memory with me until we meet, God-willing, in heaven. The beauty of my faith tells me she is a Saint watching over us, and I am so grateful to have such a powerful and personal intercessor for our family.Thank you for walking this difficult journey with me, for allowing me to be open and vulnerable with you, and for always meeting me with such grace. Please know that I am praying for your individual sufferings in a special way today, and especially for those who have experienced the pain of miscarriage and infertility.

When suddenly you seem to lose all you thought you had gained, do not despair. Your healing is not a straight line. You must expect setbacks and regressions. Don't say to yourself "All is lost. I have to start all over again." This is not true. What you have gained you have gained....When you return to the the road, you return to the place where you left it, not to where you started. // Henri Nouwen, The Inner Voice of Love